


Casual Homophobia

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Biphobia, Depression, Disappointment, F/F, F/M, Fear of Rejection, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Military Homophobia, Postpartum Depression, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 17:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of stories, poems, and real-life events from a bisexual girl who struggled with internal biphobia. Not all stories will be mine, and will be stated so at the top of said story and at the end for full credit.





	Casual Homophobia

**Author's Note:**

> I will be changing names of people of my life for their safety and confidentiality.

I never knew of the LGBT community until I was in middle school and met new people who were apart of the community. At first, it was all confusing. The many inclusive labels and what they meant, I still struggle with some and others don't mean anything at all but are still there. These people introduced me to a side of myself I never knew existed. The first girl to introduce me to these labels was Isabella, a girl who became a huge part of my life before I even knew it. She was openly bisexual and didn't shy away from her attraction to both girls and boys, but she explained to me that she was more attracted to girls than boys. That, and—boys are gross.

My best friend from fifth grade to sixth grade—before I met Isabella—didn't know he was gay until sixth grade. Neither did I. I had a plan to ask him out on Valentine's Day with a rose I could buy at school and with a card I made myself, but he came out openly one day during lunch. "I think—no, I know—I like boys and only boys!" Isabella told him that she already knew and teased him over it, and everyone laughed but me. It hurt because I liked him, but I couldn't control who he liked and didn't like. I got over myself before I knew it, and I cherished Colin for the coming years until Freshman Year.

Isabella helped me get over Colin without even trying. I didn't know I liked girls before her, but I was head-over-heels for her. She loved Marvel and DC respectfully—just like me—and she had a great sense of humor. I stuck to her like glue, had sleepovers all of the time, and wept many nights with her. I really, truly, thought we would be friends forever. But then after sixth grade, she had a girlfriend. Isabella was dating a girl from her orchestra class, Lilly. I tried to be happy for her, but I felt so sick seeing them hold hands, kiss, and cuddle into each other.

I'd pretend that I didn't care, that it didn't bug me that she was loving someone else and not me. It wasn't fair of me to expect her to see how much I liked her, but part of me hoped for some miracle. I was sad throughout seventh grade, but Isabella was still my best friend and that's all that really mattered. Towards the end of the school year, they were constantly fighting. Isabella wanted to talk about it, but Lilly never wanted to talk face-to-face, and Isabella wouldn't accept anything less. I always supported Isabella, both because I was beyond infatuated with her and because I wanted her to be happy.

They broke up—and I was happy because of it. Lilly was out of the picture and I could have a chance with Isabella if I ever just worked up the damn courage to ask her to date me. I never would. I was scared of how much I liked her, and how my parents would react. I liked Colin, but I never liked him like I liked Isabella. When she cried over Lilly, I was there every single time. I was happy and at the end of the day, I made her happy, too. I loved Isabella.

I cried because I loved Isabella. I curled up in the locker room after school and cried. I kept crying because I was so scared. I was terrified. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't stop crying. I wish someone was there, I wish I told my mom, I wish I had someone that held me and told me I was okay and normal. I kept crying until I was laying against the locker, no noise coming from me, only tears streaming down my cheeks. I was laying against the locker Isabella and I shared—and it's so stupid to think about it now, but she was always scared of never knowing the combination. If I wasn't going to school that day, I made sure to text her the combination.

At one point, Isabella loved me back. She told me this much later and it hurt all the same. Isabella loved me after her and Lilly broke up, and I was the main person there to help her whenever she needed. At that point, I could've been with the girl I loved and wanted, and I didn't even know—I didn't even realize because I thought she would never like me like that. Not some basic girl who is beyond passive and needs everyone to walk her through things. Not the girl who cried because she was bisexual.

In eighth grade, Isabella got another girlfriend. It hurt more because she told me she didn't even want to date this girl. She felt bad and said yes to dating her. Part of me understood, part of me hated her, and part of me felt bad for her new girlfriend. All that ran through my head was, "She knew you for three weeks, I knew you for three years, and you still picked her." Again, I swallowed my emotions, I faked a smile and tried to be happier for her, but it kept getting harder to fake what I didn't feel in the slightest.

Her girlfriend wasn't a bad person, she was like me. Kind of boring but kind-hearted throughout. Only she had the guts to ask if Isabella would ever like her and I never did. Maybe I hated her because she was me if I had any courage in my veins, any strength in my heart, any confidence in myself. I don't like her now in Sophomore Year, but it's fine—I don't need to be ever involved with her again.

They broke up, too.

In Freshman Year, I asked Isabella to Homecoming with me. She misunderstood, but she agreed even after I explained it. I felt stupid over the whole thing and got quiet. I always get quiet when things get hard.

She started dating a boy. Isabella told me she wanted a boyfriend—not a girlfriend—and I pretended I didn't care. I did. I always did.

We never dated. We never kissed. We did hug each other, cuddle when we slept in the same bed (that's when I felt the safest), and held hands... but we were never together. Now we don't even talk, but I can't pretend her absence doesn't hurt. I tried to befriend her again, and it all felt weak. Now I am alone like I feared I would be, with feelings that are gone but burn in my throat.

I can't pretend it doesn't hurt—it does, so much—but she was never meant to be my girl.

My girl.


End file.
